


The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To

by Dearly_Divided



Series: Love is not a victory march... [3]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: A hint of fluff, A little hint of smut, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Joseph is not a good man, Religious Themes, Soulmate AU, Will someone please give Rook a hug?, pre-game, soft Joseph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 07:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20831807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearly_Divided/pseuds/Dearly_Divided
Summary: For as long as Rook could remember, there had been a voice in her head.The Voice, so kind and impossibly gentle, was her first friend, her confidant, her guiding light. More than anyone - her parents, her friends, her siblings, Rook trusted the Voice. No one else could ever hope to love her as much or care for her as deeply as he could. No one else knew her like he did. He was, after all, her soulmate.





	The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To

For as long as Rook could remember, there had been a voice in her head. 

The Voice, so kind and impossibly gentle, was her first friend, her confidant, her guiding light. More than anyone - her parents, her friends, her siblings, Rook trusted the Voice. No one else could ever hope to love her as much or care for her as deeply as he could. No one else knew her like he did. He was, after all, her soulmate.

It wasn’t unheard of for soulmates to hear each other’s voices long before they met; Rook was one of the lucky ones. At first it had seemed like a blessing, after all, what harm could come from a voice? 

Rook had been seven the first time she’d asked her parents about God. Having not been particularly religious themselves but more than happy to allow their daughter the freedom to explore religion, they’d sat her down and tried their best to explain God and the basics of Christianity. Well, as much as a seven year old could take in, at any rate.

They hadn’t thought to question where the sudden interest had come from, Rook was a curious kid, she could have picked it up anywhere. 

They were far less enthusiastic the first time she asked them about sin. Carefully they say her down once more and explained that, yes, sins were _technically_ a bad thing, but they weren’t a measure of your worth as a person. People made mistakes, that was human nature, but that doesn’t make them bad people, and besides God would always forgive those who sinned. That was the basis of Christianity, hell, the basis for most religions - being the best person you can be, loving yourself and your neighbour in equal measure. The focus was on the good, not the bad.

Rook had nodded along thoughtfully, but there was a look in her eyes as if she didn’t quite believe them, like somebody else had told her otherwise. But kids were curious, so they let it slide. There wasn’t any harm is exploring religion. 

She was eleven the first time she asked her parents about the Collapse. They’d stared at each other with wide eyes as her father had sat her down and gently asked what she was talking about.

Rook was surprised, she’d assumed that her parents knew everything. Nevertheless, she told them what she knew - what the Voice had told her: the end was coming and those who didn’t repent, the sinners who refused their help, wouldn’t survive to see Eden’s Gate. She didn’t notice the horror in her parents eyes, the way her mother’s hand had reached for her father’s, squeezing it tight. 

“Honey… where did you hear about something like that?” her father had asked.

Rook had just grinned, entirely unaware of the tension brewing in the room. “The Voice told me. It’s okay though, he promised to keep me safe. He’ll protect me.” 

The silence was deafening.

“…Rook, baby, there is no collapse. The world’s not going to end-”

“That’s not what the Voice says!” she cut him off with a frown.

Her mother had sighed, pulling her squirming daughter into her lap and kissing her forehead with shaking lips. “Sweetheart… maybe it’s for the best that you stop listening to the Voice. These… these ideas that he’s putting into your head, they’re not healthy. They’re not _real_.”

But Rook hadn’t understood. The Voice wouldn’t lie to her, but no matter how much she screamed and shouted, her parents wouldn’t see that. They were scared, frightened of the ideas the Voice was putting into their daughter’s head. They were soulmates, but not the lucky kind - how could they possibly understand the bond she had with her soulmate? 

With tears spilling down her ruddy cheeks, she’d run to her bedroom (ignoring her parents’ calls to come back), slamming the door shut behind her and falling face first down onto the mattress, sobbing her little heart out.

As it always did when she was distressed, the Voice began to speak in its soft, calming tone, murmuring gently in her head.

_Please don’t cry, not for them. My parents didn’t believe me either; they thought that I was lying for attention, they punished me for it. They don’t understand us, they refuse to. But things will work out in the end, I promise. What they believe doesn’t matter, it won’t change anything. You have me and I have you, and that’s all we’ll ever need._

Rook stopped talking about the things that the Voice said to her around her parents.

They thought that he was a bad influence on her, that he was filling her head with lies, but they didn’t see the good that the Voice brought about. Rook was kind because he encouraged her to be so, she helped people - stood up for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves even when it meant that she got in trouble (and oh _boy_ did it). She tried her hardest to be a good person, to not judge others, not give in to petty jealousies and anger that flashed and sparked like flint striking stone. 

But she learned to keep the Voice to herself. 

Everybody had a soulmate, and a special few had the same connection with theirs that she did, but whenever Rook brought up her soulmate and the things that he spoke to her about… people gave her strange looks. It was a natural, normal thing, yet they looked at her like she was a freak, like she was crazy. It wasn’t like it was one sided either - Rook felt him sometimes, when he was angry or upset - she spoke to him too. 

But nobody understood.

_Would I lead you astray? Trust me, my love, I’m telling you the truth - they will see in time, we will make them._

And Rook did. She trusted the Voice implicitly, even when he was vague, even when he kept secrets. It was to protect her, always to protect her.

Her soulmate heard God, how could she possibly doubt him?

But keeping a part of herself hidden away from those she was closest to, it was hard. She grew up surrounded by friends, family - people who loved her fiercely and unconditionally, but she felt lonely.

Rook tried so hard to be perfect. 

She knew she was supposed to be good - not indulge in her wrath or her pride or the countless other sins she was warned against, but she was only human, and every once in a while, Rook slipped.

Her friends weren’t bad influences by any stretch of imagination (no matter _what_ the Voice implied) but from time to time, Rook allowed herself to forget about the Voice, about the coming Collapse and the promises she’d made years ago and just let loose with them.

The Voice always forgave her for it, but Rook wasn’t searching for absolution. She was young, she wasn’t hurting anybody, and no matter how many times she dabbled in petty, harmless sins, she was still a good person.

_Are you enjoying yourself, my love?_

Oh, how the words dripped with exasperation, tempered only by the barest hint of indulgence he usually graced her with. 

_Having a ball, actually. You?_

She could almost feel his disapproval at her cheek, and three drinks into the night without a care in the world, it only made her grin. 

_I don’t claim to be a perfect man, you know that better than most-_

Rook barely suppressed a roll of her eyes. 

_Then don’t preach, not tonight, not when you’re not here. Let me live a little._

And that was the crux of the problem. He wasn’t there. She’d come if he asked, she’d pick up her life without a second thought and move halfway across the country, halfway across the world if that’s what he wanted, but whenever she brought it up, he’d shy away.

It wasn’t time. God had a plan. Patience was a virtue.

No matter how many justifications he gave, it never took away the sting of rejection. He was so close that she could almost _feel _it, but he didn’t want her - not yet. She heard him sigh, felt his regret and wistfulness echo through their bond, tugging painfully at her own heart.

_Soon, I promise. _

She didn’t respond.

_I love you, more than anything on this Earth. Whatever you may believe about me, trust in that much._

And God help her, she did. 

But she wouldn’t keep her life on hold for him either.

The Voice might have encouraged her better nature, but it was her parents who suggested that she take that innate desire to help people and actually do something with it.

Law enforcement hadn’t exactly been her first thought, but somehow it just felt _right_. 

It wasn’t an easy process, nor was it a particularly straightforward one. It seemed that while Rook was determined to find a job, God had other plans. 

She’d kept track of the jobs and positions she’d lost out on at first, but as the knock backs kept coming - one after the other, Rook started to lose faith.

Sometimes it was a no right off the bat - they didn’t have the funding, she was too inexperienced, she wasn’t the right _fit_, other times she went through the process; interviews, testing, more interviews, only to miss out on the final stage.

Through it all, the Voice was strangely silent. Rook wasn’t sure if he didn’t approve of her choice of career, or whether he simply didn’t care. It hurt, in its own little way. 

So when she got a call from the Chief of Police three towns over, informing her that while the position she’d applied for had been filled, he had an old friend down in Montana with a vacancy for a Junior Deputy in his department and he’d be glad to throw his support behind her application if she was interested, she kept it to herself.

It wasn’t keeping secrets if he didn’t want to know.

Montana sounded like a good bet. God had a plan for her, she had to believe that. Maybe all of those rejections - they were leading her there; to Hope County.

She felt his curiosity pique when she said goodbye to her family, no doubt drawn in by the mess of emotions currently warring within her, but she ignored him, and for once, the Voice had the good sense not to press.

She’d spent years working towards finding a job where she could do something worthwhile, help people, and within half an hour of meeting Sheriff Whitehorse, she was offered one.

“We need good people, Rook, and from what I’ve heard, you’re good people,” he’d grunted, shaking her hand after she’d signed on the dotted line. “You can start on Monday, if you’d like.”

Rook took to Hope County like a duck to water. It was beautiful - the picturesque mountains and the lush valley - the fresh, crisp air and the stunning skies. Rook was in love the moment she set her bags down. 

Those first few weeks flew by so quickly. Between finding a place to live, getting settled into her new job and becoming acquainted with the _colourful_ inhabitants of the small town, Rook barely had a moment to breathe. 

It wasn’t that she was ignoring the Voice per se, but for perhaps the first time in her life, he wasn’t her priority. 

Naturally, the moment she stopped actively searching for him, God decided to drop him into her lap. 

She’d been on her way home from the station - it was a beautiful night and she’d decided to walk instead of driving. She was about five minutes away when she’d heard it; crystal clear and utterly unmistakable, the voice of her soulmate. 

“Go in peace, my child.”

It was like someone had doused her in freezing water; her breath caught, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs, every single nerve ending in her body alight as those words washed over her. 

That voice, echoing in the very depths of her bones, calling her home; how could she not recognize it? Trembling, Rook turned. There, at the end of her street was a man - tall and beautiful, bearded with dark hair drawn back into a bun and bright blue eyes hidden behind yellow aviators. In front of him was a woman, maybe ten years older than Rook, smiling up at him like he hung the moon. She watched, frozen in place as he brought his hand to the woman’s cheek, saying something too soft for her to hear. Part of her wanted to run, to scream, to cry and laugh and dance and _go to him_ \- her soulmate, but she was frozen in place.

All those years, all that waiting, and her soulmate was right there in front of her, not 20 yards away and all she could do was gape like a fish. She could barely hear her own thoughts over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears like a drum. Rook tried to speak, say something, _anything_, but the words caught in her throat. 

“Thank you, Father,” the woman breathed, and with a final smile and a nod, he turned and walked away. She watched, rooted in place until he disappeared from her sight. It was only then that control and common sense seemed to return. Like a slap in the face, Rook launched herself forward, chasing not after her soulmate but the woman now making her own way back down the street.

“Excuse me! Hi, sorry,” Rook blurted as she caught up with her. The woman spun, took one look at the green uniform she was wearing and the wide, no doubt manic smile plastered across her face and offered up a polite, if wary, smile.

“Is there a problem, Deputy?” she asked, her voice cool despite the pleasant expression on her face. 

Rook took it all in stride, shaking her head. “That man, the one you were just with… who is he?”

The woman eyed her carefully, “The Father. Joseph Seed,” she corrected when she saw the confused crinkle appear between Rook’s eyebrows. 

“The Father?”

The woman nodded, “He leads the Project with his brothers and sister.” 

Again, Rook’s bewilderment must have been clear as day because the woman laughed, her face softening and a glimmer of warmth returning to her eyes. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

Rook nodded with a sheepish laugh.

“The Father gives sermons every Wednesday night out down by the river near the old church. If you’re curious, you should stop by. Hearing him speak…” she trailed off with a wistful expression and for once, Rook understood perfectly. How many times had she been lulled to sleep by his voice? How often had he calmed her, comforted her, praised her in that soft, hypnotic voice of his?

After a moment, the woman sighed, shaking herself out of her reverie. “The Father, the Project - they can save you,_ heal_ you. Come listen to him preach, Deputy, you won’t regret it.”

And then she too walked away, leaving Rook shaken, breathless and deliriously happy.

Her Voice had a name; _Joseph_.

It was almost a struggle to go back to work after that. Both Staci and Joey noticed the way that Rook seemed to be buzzing but outside of Joey’s bemused, “You right there, Rook?” as she passed her a mug of coffee, neither passed judgement.

They weren’t the only ones to notice, either. 

_You’re happy, my love. _

Not a question, but he sounded pleased; content in a way that he hadn’t been for months.

_I am. Things are finally falling into place and I’m happy, so blissfully, delightfully happy._

_Oh, and would you care to share what exactly has put you in such a wonderful mood?_

Rook stifled her laughter in behind her mug, taking a long sip of coffee. 

_It’s a surprise. _

For the next two days, Rook fought the urge to go off and track him down. It would be easy enough considering her new job and the information she had access to, but probably not the best use of the departmental resources, nor the most ethical. It was one thing when he was just a vague possibility, but having seen him, knowing that he was so close after years of waiting, it was driving her insane.

But as he was so fond of reminding her, patience was a virtue, and eventually Wednesday rolled around. She couldn’t help but watch the clock as the minutes slowly ticked over. It didn’t help that she’d worked the night shift with Staci and so after trying and failing to take a nap, all Rook could do was pace restlessly and potter around her living room in an effort to somehow make time pass quicker. 

And yet as the hours ticked by, a growing sense of unease began to eat away at her. It was ridiculous - he was her soulmate, her first and closest friend, the only person she’d ever truly loved, the only one she ever would, but what if he didn’t love her? What if his reluctance to meet was the sign of something more?

What if he was disappointed in her?

What if he wasn’t really interested in having a soulmate?

What if she wasn’t _good _enough for him? Lord knew that despite her best efforts, Rook was from being a paragon of virtue and faith. The way she’d been acting for the past few months, childish and petulant simply because she was hurt, what if that was all he saw when he looked at her? Someone not worthy of Eden’s gate, or worse, someone not worthy of being his soulmate.

If he didn’t want her, it might just break her. 

Rook had never been one to obsess over her looks (pride was a sin, after all) but she’d pulled out one of her better dresses, actually taken the time to do her hair nicely and put some effort into her makeup. Nothing too ostentatious or over the top, but she wanted to look… nice for him, vanity be damned. 

Her stomach twisted into knots as she made her way through town, her hands trembling at her sides. Truth be told, Rook barely remembered the walk - Holland Valley could have been on fire and she wouldn’t have noticed. 

She slotted herself in with the small crowd trailing down to the river. A few people gave her a smile and a nod in greeting when she met their gaze, but outside of her uniform, Rook was largely invisible and nobody paid her any mind. That suited her just fine, she wasn’t there for them.

Joseph was already there when she arrived, standing on the banks of the river already having begun his sermon. Just like the first time, her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of him. With the sun setting behind him bathing him in golden light, Rook could only stare. He was speaking - that familiar, magnetising drawl echoing out into the open air, but for once Rook wasn’t hearing a word of it. His words might have soothed her racing heart, if not for the fact that unlike the last time she’d seen him, this time Joseph was shirtless and Rook couldn’t tear her eyes away.

While Joseph preached about sins and the path to absolution for the coming Collapse, Rook’s attention wandered. More specifically, it wandered from his face (those piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore right into her very soul every time they swept past her) down to the expanse of his chest, taking in every little detail. She winced at the sight of his scars, his sins quite literally carved and tattooed into his body. _Lust, Greed, Pride, Gluttony, Sloth_, the twin sparrows inked on his collar bones, the crown nestled between his pecs, the other scars that littered his skin - remnants from a time in his childhood that Joseph had only ever alluded to. Rook studied them all with morbid fascination, her heart aching for the man who’d struggled through so much alone.

Yet, there was also a part of her, that small, sinful little side that she’d never quite managed to quash, that couldn’t help but _admire_ his shirtless state. She was only human, and Joseph - that golden sun kissed skin, the smooth, muscled plains of his stomach, his chest, good lord, his biceps… 

She knew that what he was saying was undoubtedly important, but she let it wash over her, listening more to the rise and fall of his breath, the rich, resonating hum of his voice rather than the message he preached. His voice wrapped around her like a blanket, the faintest hint of his southern twang making her smile. It felt like coming home after a long, long time away.

She lost all sense of time as Joseph spoke.

It came as a surprise then, when the crowd around them (the ones she’d entirely forgotten about) began to start murmuring amongst themselves and disperse, some trailing off alone, others in groups. 

There were a few people who lingered close by - his family, if she had to guess, but Rook knew that she wasn’t going to get a better opportunity anytime soon. She took in a deep breath, steeling herself as she took a step forward towards Joseph - her soulmate, _finally_. 

Almost immediately, a huge mountain of a man moved between them, not quite glaring at her, but eyeing her suspiciously all the same. Her gaze flickered between him (red headed, wearing muddy jeans and a camo jacket and an expression so fierce it made her gut clench) and Joseph, just now turning to look at her.

“The service is over, Deputy. Go home,” he grunted. 

Her eyes widened, her words dying in her throat… but she hadn’t come all this way, hadn’t waited fucking years for this only to be denied now. She opened her mouth, intent on telling the soldier _exactly that_ when another voice cut in.

“Jacob, please.” 

Joseph stepped forward, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder before turning his attention back to her. He smiled graciously as the redhead rolled his eyes, and Rook’s stomach filled with butterflies. “Forgive my brother, he means no ill will, truly.” 

Both Joseph and Rook pointedly ignored Jacob’s derisive snort at his words. 

“We welcome all who come with an open mind. Tell me, Deputy, what brings you to the Project? Have you come to be saved?”

She didn’t know how they knew who she was, but it didn’t matter. She’d spent her entire life waiting for this moment - God only knew how many hours she’d sat and pondered over what she’d say to him when they finally met. But standing in front of him, those captivating blue eyes bearing down on her, Rook couldn’t think of a single one of them.

Instead, she offered him a shaky smile, “Surprise.”

Joseph’s eyes widened, his jaw falling slack and for one horrible moment, Rook’s stomach _sunk_. Panic set in as her heart began to race with every second that he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Beside him, Jacob frowned.

“Joe? What’s wrong?”

But he didn’t respond, and Jacob shot her a furtive glance as he reached up to squeeze at the hand on his shoulder, trying to shake Joseph out of his shell shocked state.

Nothing. The only signs of movement were the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his eyes, flickering over her face as if he were trying to commit every detail to memory.

“Jacob-” another voice called, but Rook paid it no mind, utterly frozen and transfixed on Joseph.

“Ah, well _fuck_,” Jacob muttered under his breath as the pieces finally clicked. “It’s fine, John,” he called back, but the tension didn’t ease from his shoulders nor did his frown shift, not when Joseph was still frozen, staring at her like she was a ghost.

This was a mistake. He didn’t want her, she shouldn’t have come. Rook wasn’t good enough for someone like Joseph.

She never would be.

“I-I shouldn’t… I’m sorry-”

The moment that the words left her lips, Joseph abruptly shook himself free, a wide, brilliant smile lighting up his face. 

“God told me you were coming,” was all he said as he took a single step forward, wrapped his arms around Rook’s waist and pulled her against him.

And then his lips were on hers. 

Joseph kissed fiercely, reverently, as if he were dying and her lips were salvation. She lost herself to him entirely, grinning like a fool as his calloused hand came up to cup her cheek, drawing her closer still. It was heavenly, _he_ was heavenly. The scent of him - juniper and mint and something earthy and rich enveloped her, and she committed it to memory. His beard scratched at her skin, but she didn’t mind, not when his mouth moved from her lips to her jaw and then down her neck, kissing her so sweetly. 

It was only when Jacob loudly cleared his throat and another chuckle sounded nearby that Rook suddenly remembered that they were in public and most definitely _not alone_. 

Rook flushed bright pink, squeaking in horror and trying to pry Joseph away from her, but his hold only tightened, “Something the matter, Jacob?” he muttered between kisses peppered across her skin.

Jacob snorted, “Not that I’m not happy for you two lovebirds, but this maybe isn’t the time?”

“Or the place for that matter,” the other voice laughed, and Rook turned to see another man, shorter with dark hair slicked back and a charming grin walking towards them with a beautiful woman dressed in white with flowers flowing from her dress by his side. 

Joseph hummed thoughtfully, but he made no move to extricate himself from her. His lips brushed once more against Rook’s cheek, and as he broke away, keeping his arm wrapped around her waist, he smiled down at her with such soft affection that she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Dinner, then,” he said, as if it was already settled. Yet his eyes still flickered over hers, the question unspoken.

She leaned up on her toes and pressed a brief, chaste kiss on his jaw. “Dinner sounds lovely.”

And so Rook spent the evening with the Seeds at John’s ranch. It felt surreal to be sitting there with them, Joseph’s hand entwined with hers as they ate and talked, and yet at the same time it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her heart still leapt every time he met her gaze, every brush of his fingers against her skin sending electricity jolting through her veins. 

For so long, her soulmate had only existed as the Voice inside of her head, and now to have him there with her; real, in the flesh - someone she could touch, or kiss or hold - she couldn’t even begin to describe how _wonderful_ it made her feel.

Despite their somewhat frosty initial reception, Joseph’s siblings warmed to her quickly enough. Even Jacob, sitting quietly on his other side softened somewhat as the night wore on, laughing easily and more often - teasing his brothers in the way that only older brothers could. It was comfortable, something Rook could very easily get used to. 

It felt like being home again, and it warmed her heart.

As John regaled them all with a tale of one his courtroom exploits she snuck Joseph a small, secretive smile. He squeezed her hand gently in response, shifting so that he could more comfortably lean against her side and pressed a soft kiss against her hair.

_I love you._

***

“Stay, please, my love. I’ve waited a lifetime to have you beside me, surely your colleagues can survive without you for a day?”

The sight of him, his hair loose against the pillow, naked with only the crisp white bed sheet preserving his modestly, god it was tempting. He certainly didn’t help matters when he pulled her close, pressing featherlight kisses against her neck, slowly dipping lower as his fingers grazed down her sides. 

“Joseph,” she chastised, her voice far breathier than she would have liked.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his nose skimming along her collarbone as his mouth dipped between the valley of her breasts.

Rook bit back as moan as his fingers suddenly slipped between the juncture of her thighs. “Joseph, I ca-” her breath hitched, her hands clenching around the sheets as his tongue wrapped around the rosy bud of her nipple. “I can’t stay and you know it.”

Joseph looked up at her, his eyes dark and glimmering with wicked intentions. “Worship should never be rushed, but needs must, I suppose.”

Rook let out a peal of laughter as he suddenly snared her in his grasp and flipped her underneath him.

Needless to say, by the time Rook burst through the door at the station, she was well and truly late.

“I am _so_ sorry! I missed my alarm and…” her voice trailed off as she realised that not a single one of them was paying her any attention. Whitehorse, Staci and Nancy were crowded around Joey’s desk, watching something play out on her screen.

The tension hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating, every step forward felt like she was intruding on something that she wasn’t supposed to see. And yet even as unease settled into the pit of her stomach like a rock, she kept going - dropping her bag on her desk as she passed.

“Jesus _fuck_,” Staci breathed, his lip curling in disgust while Joey just clenched her jaw and shook her head, wincing as the sound of muffled screaming echoed through the room. 

“Goddamned fucking psychopath,” she spat, glancing away from the monitor only to realise that Rook had finally joined them. Instantly her eyes widened and she quickly exited whatever it was that they’d all been watching. “You’re here,” she said.

She gave a sheepish shrug, her heart thumping unsteadily in her chest as the other three glanced up, “Yeah, I-I slept through my alarm and there was… traffic…”

It was Whitehorse who broke the awkward silence that followed, clearing his throat somewhat uncomfortably. “Rook, a word? The rest of you… do some work.” He waved his arm in a vague kind of gesture before turning on his heel and walking off to his office, leaving Rook to follow. 

“Sit,” he said, closing the door behind them.

Wordlessly, Rook obeyed. 

Her hands twisted nervously in her lap as she waited for him to speak, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being back in the Principal’s office as a kid about to be told off after fighting with bullies.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you, Rook,” he said after a long moment. “It wasn’t that I didn’t think you could handle it, I know you can, you’re tougher than you look.” He huffed out a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “It doesn’t really matter now, though, does it? You heard of the Project at Eden’s Gate before?”

Her stomach lurched, her palms slick in her lap, but she shook her head. She doubted she’d be able to speak even if she wanted to.

Whitehorse just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “They’re a religious group, well, more of a doomsday cult. They’ve been around for years, never caused too much of a fuss, at least, nothin’ we couldn’t handle. But the shit’s gone and hit the fan - there’s a video of their leader, _Joseph Seed_,” he shook his head, chewing on his lip. “I ‘spose it’s easier just to show you. You’re not the squeamish type are you?”

Her gut was churning, her heart racing like a freight train about to run off the tracks and it felt like she was seconds away from throwing up, but once again Rook shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“Well,” he said gruffly as he passed her his phone, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

If he noticed the way her hands trembled as she took it, he didn’t pass comment.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she pressed play, praying to God that it wasn’t what she thought, that it was all a misunderstanding. Joseph was good, he’d never hurt anybody, he couldn’t…

At first, all she could hear was his voice - too soft to make out the words but undeniably his. There were people sitting in the pews of a church, rifles and shotguns lying in their laps. The sense of dread that had been creeping through her veins spiked as the camera shakily swung to focus in on Joseph standing on the stage, preaching to his flock. It was a wonder she could hear anything over the pounding of her own pulse in her ears, and she flinched when the camera zoomed and Joseph turned sharply to stare right at it.

Her fingers clutched at the denim of her jeans as the man behind the camera was wrestled to the podium, tightening into rigid claws as he was forced to his knees before her soulmate. She fought with every last fibre to keep her composure as Joseph took the man’s face into his hands and gouged out his eyes, casting the body aside and raising his red, bloody hands to the heavens like it was some kind of a _revelation_.

“One of ‘em got out, uploaded the video to some server. Feds are already on their way - they’re sending a Marshal with a warrant for his arrest. It’s out of our hands now-”

The Sheriff kept speaking, but the words stopped making sense. It was white noise, washing over her. 

She tried to focus on breathing, but no matter how much air she pulled into her lungs it felt like she was choking. Her head spun, the nausea rising up within her - stars sparkling in her vision.

All of it was a lie, every touch, every kiss, every promise he’d ever made to her. He was supposed to be good, he was supposed to be helping people - he… 

He was a monster, and he’d ripped the life she thought she’d known out from under her.

It was all a _lie_.

Every word he’d ever spoken.

She didn’t feel Whitehorse’s hand on her shoulder, hadn’t even realised that he’d moved until he’d gripped her chin and forced her face upwards to meet his worried gaze. “Rook! Rook, you with me?”

She swallowed down the bile in her throat, licking her lips and nodding. “I’m fine.”

As it always did when she was distressed, the Voice began to speak in its soft, calming tone, murmuring gently in her head.

_You’re upset, I can feel it. What troubles you, my love?_

Rook’s eyes fluttered shut as tears began to spill silently down her cheeks.


End file.
